Mais, vrai, j’ai trop pleuré ! Les Aubes sont navrantes. To… - Arthur Rimbaud

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Mais, vrai, j’ai trop pleuré ! Les Aubes sont navrantes.
Toute lune est atroce et tout soliel amer:
L’âcre amour m’a gonflé de torpeurs enivrantes.
Ô que ma quille éclate ! Ô que j’aille à la mer!

Arthur Rimbaud

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melancholy la-littérature-française mélancolie poésie

French

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About Arthur Rimbaud

Arthur Rimbaud (20 October 1854 – 10 November 1891) was a French poet.

Biography information from Wikiquote

Also Known As

Alternative Names: Jean Nicolas Arthur Rimbaud • Rimbaud

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Charles Baudelaire Anne Sexton Edgar Allan Poe Dylan Thomas Allen Ginsberg

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What is my nothingness to the stupor that awaits you?

The poet makes himself a voyant through a long, immense reasoned deranging of all his senses. All the forms of love, of suffering, of madness; he tries to find himself, he exhausts in himself all the poisons, to keep only their quintessences.

La vieillerie poétique avait une bonne part dans mon alchimie du verbe.

Mais, vrai, j’ai trop pleuré ! Les Aubes sont navrantes. Toute lune est atroce et tout soliel amer: L’âcre amour m’a gonflé de torpeurs enivrantes. Ô… - Arthur Rimbaud

About Arthur Rimbaud

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